


I'm Your Weatherman

by TouchingOldMagic



Series: Ghostbusters 30 Day Challenge [19]
Category: Ghostbusters (1984-1989; 2020), Ghostbusters - All Media Types, Groundhog Day (1993)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, I couldn't resist, bill murray movies, kinda crack crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24939667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TouchingOldMagic/pseuds/TouchingOldMagic
Summary: Day 19 of the Ghostbusters 30 Day ChallengePrompt: Random CrossoverPeter Venkman finds himself reliving the same day over and over.... But whose day is it?
Series: Ghostbusters 30 Day Challenge [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779643
Kudos: 9





	I'm Your Weatherman

_Then put your little hand in mine. There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb. Babe, I got you babe..._

Peter Venkman opened his eyes to a room with flowered wallpaper and white-and-pink curtains fluttering at the edge of his vision.

He was not in his loft. He was definitely not at the firehouse, either.

"What the hell...?" With a huff, Peter rolled out of the bed, rubbing his eyes. In doing so, he flung a patchwork quilt he had been sleeping under to the foot of the bed. A lace doily sat under the alarm clock radio, currently playing Sonny & Cher, on the bedside table. An honest to God doily.

His first thought was that he had stayed overnight at a date's house. A date that let her grandmother do the decorating, maybe. But no, he distinctly remembered going home and going to sleep early, because Ray had twisted his arm into an early morning bust for some woman on the Upper East Side today. Unease rippled through Peter, and he glared muzzily at the doily. Waking up in strange houses was not on ole' Pete's Top 10 List of ways to wake up, unless he was sure he had gotten laid the night before.

After a few minutes of collecting his scattered thoughts, he realized the radio DJ's were talking about Groundhog Day.

"Groundhog Day!?" Peter bolted for the window and peered outside. A quiet town road crossed in front of the building he had woken up in, and down the lane were two rows of neat little houses with little yards capped with a light carpet of snow. The trees that sprang up in the yards were bare, except for one evergreen he noticed in the distance. This was not New York City.

"Well that's a neat trick," muttered Peter to himself. Even if he had somehow been knocked out and transported to this location (for whatever reason he couldn't guess), things still weren't adding up.

When he had gone to sleep last night, it had been June.

He sighed. Ray and Egon would already have theories by now. As for Peter? Peter had questions.

A search of the room confirmed his suspicion that it was some sort of bed and breakfast. It was a single room with a small bathroom adjoining, even a tiny guest-sized soap wrapped in paper sitting in the soap dish. The closet had a single gray suit in his size. Seeing it caused him to glance down at himself. He was wearing a pair of dark blue silk pajamas he had never seen before in his life.

"Hope whoever dressed me got a good eyeful," the distracted Ghostbuster snarked to himself. He eyed the suit in the closet, debating his options.

This felt like some sort of set up. Peter Venkman did not like set ups. He especially did not like walking into them blindly like a rube wandering through a darkened funhouse, oblivious to the next mirror maze wall or rubber balloon that would pop up to hit him in the face.

Whoever put the suit in the closet obviously meant for him to get dressed and leave the room. He didn't want to play their game, but he didn't really want to wander around town in February wearing nothing but pajamas, either. The search of the room hadn't revealed anything else except a coat, a scarf, and another suit (this one charcoal) thrown in one of the chairs as if someone had taken it off and tossed it to the side before bed the night before.

Struck by some instinctual idea, only half-formed in the back of his brain, Peter grabbed the pants on the chair and searched the pockets, nodding in satisfaction when he found a wallet. He ignored the rest of the contents for the moment, instead pulling out the driver's license.

Peter stared. The name on the license was Phil Connors. The face on the license was his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'll be continuing this one later! I'm really liking this idea. Even if it's something of a crack crossover LOL.


End file.
